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By HARRIETTE R. SHATTUCK 


THE WOMAN’S MANUAL OF PARLIA- 
MENTARY LAW 

With Practical Illustrations especially adapted to 
Women’s Organizations 

OUR MUTUAL FRIEND 

A Drama, from Dickens 

LITTLE FOLKS EAST AND WEST 

Stories for Children. Illustrated .... 

MISS MIFFINS’S WINDOW 

A Christmas Story. Illustrated. ( In press.) 


75 cents 


25 cents 


75 cents 


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Lee and Shepard Publishers Boston 



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Little Folks East and West 


COMPRISING 


“PRAIRIE STORIES” 

“MOTHER GOOSE STORIES” 

“FAIRY STORIES” AND 

“TRUE STORIES” 



HARRIETTE R” SHATTUCK 



BOSTON 1892 

LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 


10 MILK STREET NEXT “OLD SOUTH MEETING HOUSE” 



Copyright, 1891, by Lee and Shepard 


/ 

All rights reserved 


Little Folks East akd West 


TYPOGKAPnY AND EI.ECTBOTYPINO BY 

C. J. Peters & Son, Boston. 


S J. Parkhill & Co., Printers, Boston. 


DEDICATION. 


TO 

(m^ ^xBkx 

IN MEMORY OF THE DAYS WHEN WE WERE LITTLE 
FOLKS TOGETHER. 




CONTENTS 


PRAIRIE STORIES ' 

Da, Bunch and Ony 3 

Bunch’s Moving Day 12 

Bunch’s Flower Garden 18 

How Louis found a Home 23 

MOTHER GOOSE STORIES 

Hickerty Pickerty’s Party 35 

More about Little Miss Muffet 42 

Three Litfle Wise Men 49 

FAIRY STORIES 

What happened to the Little Fay 57 

Little Loubeeze in Dreamland 62 

How the Moon got her Halo 68 

TRUE STORIES 

A Little Maid of Long Ago 77 

A Little Maid of To-Day 82 

What Marjorie sees in the Morning 87 



ft 


















DA, BUNCH AND ONY. 


A WAS a boy twelve years 
old, Bunch, a little girl of six, 
and Ony, a tiny black pig. 
The rest of the “little folks” 
will come in by and by. Da, 
Bunch, and Ony lived at 
Plum Creek — “way off out 
West,” but why it was named 
Plum Creek,” I’m sure I don’t know, for there were 
no plums there and no creek either. Da and Bunch’s 
real names .were David and Blanche, but they had 
been called these easier names by little Bunch her 
self, before she could talk plainly, and now everybody 
called them so. “Bunch” was just the right name 
too, for she was a real little bunch of a girl, as plump 
and round and rosy as a ripe cherry. They lived 
with their father and mother in a little sod house in 
one of the hollows of the rolling prairie, five miles 


4 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


from any neighbor. Ony lived with his brothers and 
sisters, ten in all, almost anywhere. He ran about 
wherever he liked all day, and rested beside the old 
mother pig when night came. His real name was 
Ebony, because he was black all over, while his 
brothers and sisters were black and white spotted. 
Ony was always clean, and so smart and cunning 
that sometimes they let him run about in the kitchen, 
and then he would eat corn from Bunch’s hand and 
drink the buttermilk left from the churning. Bunchie 
had no other pet, for she was a poor little girl ; so 
she made a pet of Ony, who followed her about 
everywhere she went — just like “Mary’s little lamb,” 
and showed a great deal of love for her, even if he 
was only a little black pig ! 

The children’s home was a very pleasant one, 
though it was only a house built all of sods which 
they dug from the ground and piled one on another. 
There were two small windows, one low door, and a 
hole in the roof for the stove pipe. There were three 
rooms opening one into another, all of the same size, 
nicely plastered and with wooden floors. 

There was a stove too, in which hay was burned in 
summer and wood in winter, two beds, a bureau (in 
the upper drawer of which was the Plum Creek post- 
office), six chairs, a small table, and two shelves full 
of dishes and the pans for milk. The house was quite 
low, so it was easy to throw the farming tools upon 
the roof and get them out of the way. Sometimes 


BA, BUNCH AND ONY. 


5 


the sod roof looked very queer, all stuck over with 
hoe-handles and rake-handles and other kinds of han- 
dles. A little way from the house was the sod cellar, 
a small room made by digging a hole in one of the 
little hillocks of the prairie and shaping it with sods. 
Here the milk was set for cream, the pork was salted 
down and all the food was kept, except the yellow 
squashes, green melons and ripe corn, which were 
stored in nice, clean wooden sheds. 

Then there was the shed thatched with hay, where 
the three strong farm horses were kept, the sod stable 
for the cows, the little pond for the ducks, and the 
sty for the pigs, though only the old mother pig staid 
in the sty, her large family liking better to trot about 
all over the farm and visit the other animals. Of 
course, there were hens, too, but they lived anywhere. 

Three times a week came the mail, brought by a 
tall man on horseback, who wore a soft, wide-brim- 
med hat, and always smiled pleasantly at little Bunch, 
as she stood in the doorway watching him. He 
would stay all night and go away the next morning 
to Valloosa, the county seat, carrying with him the 
letters and papers which the Plum Creek folks wanted 
to send to their friends. Sometimes he would have 
as many as seven or eight letters, and he always 
brought a good many papers, for out West the men 
and women want to know all that is going on. 

Although they saw so few persons. Da and Bunch 
were not lonely. Da had plenty of work to do. He 


6 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


milked the cows, harnessed the horses and took care 
of them, and helped his father about the farm. Bunch 
and her mamma staid at home and “ did the w’ork,” 
the little girl not doing a great deal except to wipe 
the dishes, set the table and feed the chickens and 
ducks, because she was too little to do anything 

else. When her work was done she would run out 
on the prairie, and, with Ony at her heels, would 

chase the round “tumble weeds” and run in the wild 
wind until her cheeks were as red as roses and her 
gown was covered with the prickly sand-burrs that 
grow in the tall prairie grass. 

The farmer was very set in his ways. He had just 
such a time for everything, and then and only then 
must it be done. The mother was too busy all the 
time to think when she would like to do this or that. 
There was always a next thing that could not wait. 
She had to work very hard, and often Bunch would 
see tears in her eyes and wonder about it. Once the 
mother had lived in Valloosa, and her mother lived 

there now, and she had not seen her for so long ! 

That was why there were tears in the mother’s eyes 
sometimes. 

The bright summer had gone, and the fall had come. 
The prairie roses and sunflowers were dead, and the 
tall grass was yellow and dry. In the night the sky 
was lit up in many directions by distant prairie fires, 
and the mother had warned her husband several times 
that it was time to make his fire-guards ; that is, to 


DA, BUNCH AND ONK 


7 


plough a wide path all around his house and sheds so 
that if the fire came, it would be stopped by the 
ploughed ground, as there would then be nothing 
more to burn. But the farmer had set apart the 
thirtieth day of the month for this job, and he would 
not do it sooner. What he wanted to do, he always 
did, no matter if it did not seem best to other people. 
We shall see whether he was sorry that he did not 
plough sooner. The twenty-ninth had been set apart 
for going to Valloosa to sell corn and to buy some 
things they needed at home, and the mother was 
going to spend a few hours with dear mother, and 
carry her some new butter and a fine squash for 
Thanksgiving. Da was old enough to leave now. He 
could take care of Bunch for a day, even though she 
was such a fly-a-way! 

So two of the strong horses were harnessed into the 
big wagon, the wagon was filled with corn, and away 
they drove, leaving the children to take care of each 
other and the animals. All went on beautifully. Da 
did his chores, while Bunch ran about with Ony and 
kept out of mischief quite well for a fly-a-way. Soon 
came dinner-time, and the children sat down to eat a 
nice cold dinner, fixed beforehand by their mamma. 
They sat a long time eating and playing, for they had 
invited Ony to dinner, too, just for fun, and were 
much delighted at the way he acted. They put him 
into a chair and tied a bib under his chin and then 
Da fed him with mush and milk out of a spoon, while 


8 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


Bunch tried to hold his “ hands,” as she called them, 
to prevent him from rushing right into the big yellow 
bowl of milk and gobbling it all up at once. 

Suddenly, Bunch looked up and cried, “Oh, Da! 
see ! see ! ” and Da turning quickly and looking out of 
the window, saw something that made his cheeks and 
lips turn white. It was a prairie-hre, not ten miles 
away. Da ran to the door and looked eagerly to see 
if the fire was coming toward them. Bunch followed 
him, and Ony, left to himself, plunged, bib and all, 
into the milkbowl I What cared he for prairie-fires ! 
Yes, the fire was coming that way ; the wind was 
rising, as it always does when a fire comes, and in a 
few minutes the great prairie all around them would 
be in a blaze, for it takes a very, very short time for 
a prairie-fire to travel a great distance ; even a horse 
cannot run so fast ! 

“ O, why didn’t papa plough sooner?” said poor Da. 
But there was no time for regrets, or for talking. 
Something must be done, and at once. 

“ Here, Bunchie, you sit right down there, and don’t 
you stir till I tell you,” said the brave boy, in such a 
tone that the frightened little girl did not dare to 
disobey. She sat down on the doorstep, and Ony 
coming along just then (with his black face and feet 
spotted with milk, so that now he looked like the rest 
of his mother’s family, and with the bib dangling be- 
tween his feet and tripping him every step). Bunch 
threw her arms around him and hugged him tight 


DA, BUNCH AND ONY. 


9 


till he squealed and struggled, so that she had to let 
him go, when he sat down beside her and began to 
lick the milk from his feet. 

In the meantime, Da had run as fast as he could go 
to the horse-shed. He knew that the only thing he 
could do was to get with Bunch on the horse, and 
when the fire came near the house to ride straight 
through the flames on to the burned ground beyond. 
If his father and mother had been at home, they might 
have fought the fire back with wet brooms and bags. 
But he could not do it alone. All he could do was 
to save darling Bunch. He found the horse all right, 
and hurried with him back to the house. Then he 
tied Bunch on the horse’s back with a blanket, threw 
an end of the blanket over her head and told her 
to keep still. Then he sprang up behind her, clasped 
his arms around her, and catching tight hold of the 
reins, drove straight into the hot, roaring flames. 
Brave boy as he was, he shrank from the scorching 
heat as it singed his hair, burned his hands, and 
almost blinded and choked him. But on went the 
horse, leaping up high to get above the flames, and 
bounding over the prairie with terrific speed, brave 
Da and little Bunch clinging breathlessly together 
upon his back. 

The farmer and his wife left Valloosa in good sea- 
son, and drove homeward. As they came near home 
they saw the smoke, and the farmer began to wish he 
had put out his guards before. “ O, why did I wait? 


lO 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


ril never wait again” he said, “if I can only get there, 
ril always plough in season after this!” When they 
came still nearer, they saw that it would be only with 
the greatest haste that they could reach home and 
fight the fire back from their house. The sheds and 
barns must go. “ But where aiie the children ? O, 
why did I leave them !” said the mother in agony, as 
they hastened toward their home. They urged the 
horses on, and got there just in time to beat back the 
fire from the house at great peril of their lives, every 
minute thinking of the children, but not having time 
to look for them. 

Soon the fire swept by, leaving ruin where before 
there had been plenty, and then the anxious father 
and mother saw, slowly coming toward them over the 
black burned ground, the grey horse, with almost 
every hair burned off, carrying on his back what 
looked like a very big bundle, but really was little 
Bunch all safe and sound, and Da, very much burned, 
and with a throat so dry that he could not speak 
for many hours. But they were safe, and that was 
enough. And what is this coming along behind them, 
this little burnt fellow on four lame legs ? It is Ony ! 
Ebony no longer though, but a rusty brown, with one 
ear nearly gone and no tail left to speak of, — lame, 
half-blind Ony! 

Ony had followed Bunch, of course, as he always 
did, and had even run after her through the dreadful 
fire, and here he was home again. But what was this 


DA, BUNCH AND ONY. 


1 1 

around his neck ? A string and a rag ! The last of 
the calico bib that Bunch had tied around his neck 
before the fire came! Poor little faithful Ony! He 
was not quite the same lively little fellow for a long 
time, for he had to limp about, instead of trotting 
along, and often would run into things, too, for one 
of his eyes was hurt. Bunchie kept the piece of a bib 
to remember the fire by and hung it on the “ Home 
Sweet Home” over the door. After a while Ony 
grew strong and well and big and he always ran after 
Bunch whenever he saw her, just like a dog,** even 
when he was grown up. But he never had to run 
through any more fires, for after that, just as soon as 
Autumn came and the grass grew dry, and the wind 
began to blow the big round “tumble weeds” over 
and over across the prairie. Da and his father took 
the plough and the horses and ploughed all round 
the house and the barns and the sheds, so that no 
fire could ever come near them again. 



BUNCH’S MOVING-DAY. 


V’YBODY moves the first of May, 
and so we must.” 

So said little Bunch to Miss 
Penelope Cora, as she sat talking 
with her and Dolly Dikes in their 
own little play-house, which was made of a big, strong 
dry-goods box that a man had left there one day and 
brother David had fixed for his sister. Da had made 
two holes in it for windows, and all one side was the 
door. Outside there was a real door-bell, and inside 
a real room. On one side of the room was a shelf, 
and in one of the corners a little, make-believe stove, 
made out of a tin dipper turned upside down. On 
the shelf were a round stone, the nose of a tin tea- 
pot, half of a blue sauce-dish, the handle of an iron 
spoon, the cover of a pepper-box, four wooden button- 
moulds and the neck of a green glass bottle. In the 
middle of the room was the table — a match-box, 
covered with a piece of pink calico. Three chairs, 
made of green pasteboard and with very weak legs, 
stood stiffly against the wall. 



BUNCH'S MOVING-DAY, 


13 


This was little Bunch’s play-house. At present, the 
cups and saucers and plates and bowls and tureens 
and spoons and all the other dishes ( for those were 
the real names of the things on the shelf) were all 
nicely washed and set in a row. The three weak- 
legged chairs had just had their legs straightened, 
for the fifty-’leventh time,” as Bunch said. Dolly 
Dikes was sitting on the stove, the fire being out for 
the day, and Miss Penelope Cora, in a scalloped white 
gown, was gracefully leaning against the table, her 
real hair tied with a pink ribbon, which you wouldn’t 
have known was a piece of the table-cloth if I hadn’t 
told you. Miss Penelope’s housework was all done, 
and she and Dolly Dikes were “receiving” as they 
used to do when they lived in New York, before 
Bunch’s papa came out West to live and “ try to 
begin life over again.” 

New York was very different from Plum Creek ; 
and so was Boston ; and Vermont too, where Grandma 
lived ; for in those places Bunch used to have a great 
many little playmates — there were Ethel and Mar- 
jorie and Beeze (whose real name was Louise) and 
Emma and Emma’s little brother and Lena and baby 
Francy and Madie and Altie and a good many more, 
while here, off on the prairie, there were only Da and 
the dollies and Ony the pig, except once in a while 
when Louis used to ride over to see Da, which was 
not very often, for Louis lived five miles away, in a 
sod house just like Bunch’s home. So the little girl 


14 LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 

had to play by herself most of the time and, as to- 
day was the first of May, she was playing “ move.” 

But where was there a new house for Bunch’s family 
to move into? That was a serious question, for there 
was no other doll-house that they knew of for miles 
around. And really there was nothing the matter with 
this house, only it was the fashion to move and so 
they must move. 

The little girl thought and thought for a long time, 
and then, gayly clapping her hands, she said, “O, I 
tell you what ! We need’nt move out of the house ,* 
we can move in the house, — house and all!” 

This idea delighted her so that she danced wildly 
up and down and round and round, while Miss Pene- 
lope and Dolly Dikes nodded their heads in approval, 
and the three poor chairs fell together in a heap on 
the floor at the very thought. 

To be sure! There was no rule about how folks 
move, only they must move. So the next day every- 
thing was carefully packed in mamma’s starch-box, 
and then the play-house and the box of things were 
tied on Da’s sled, which had been made into a wagon 
by turning it upside down. Da was to help, of course. 
He would be the horse, and a fine one he was. But 
after everything was packed and ready. Bunch sudden- 
ly remembered that she hadn’t decided where to move 
to. Da wanted to move down by the creek, but 
Bunch thought that was too far from home. Then 
Bunch wanted to move into the prairie-dog town, but 


BUNCH'S MOVING-DAY, 


15 


Da said that the dogs would take Miss Penelope for 
a root and eat her up. It was too cold on the hill 
and too wet behind the barn. The children looked at 
each other in despair. Where could they move to ? 
At last Bunch said : “ Let’s ask Dolly Dikes. She’s 
very centsubble.” 

Dolly Dikes sat in the wagon holding the reins all 
ready to drive to her new home. As Bunch ran up 
to her, she dropped one rein, and without saying a 
word pointed straight to the place which they had 
just left. 

“ She wants to go back,” said Bunch, “ she don’t 
want to move at all. 

“ Well, I think that is the best place, Bunchie,” 
said Da. 

“ But I wanted to move,” cried Bunch. It’s the 
first of May, and evybody moves.” 

“I tell you what let’s do,” said Da, “we can move 
all the same and play this is a new place. Don’t you 
see, Bunchie?” 

“ O, yes,” said the little girl, who was always ready 
to make the best of everything, “ so we can ! And 
we’ll call it 557 West Fourteenth Street, instead of 
143 Fifth Avenue.” 

So the horse was harnessed into the wagon. Miss 
Dolly took the reins again, and off they all went. Da 
and Bunch side by side and Ony trotting along be- 
hind the wagon. I suppose they realty went up Fifth 
Avenue to Twenty-eighth Street, and then up to the 


i6 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


Forty-second Street Station, and so down to Fulton 
Ferry, and then up again to 557 West Fourteenth 
Street, though, of course, they seemed to be only run- 
ning across the empty prairie and up and down the 
rough hillocks and in 
and out of the mounds 
of the dog-town, with 
their little 
feet flying 
and their 



41&UVU.//' 

.dm ■ 

bright faces shining in the 
glow of the noonday sun. 

^ And when at last they came back and 
went to housekeeping in the new home, 
as they called it, how much finer it seemed 
than the old one ! The sun seemed to shine in more 
brightly through the windows and the garden was 
surely much better and finer. 

“This is a much better resindunce than our old 



BUNCHES MOVING DAY, 


17 


one, isn’t it?” said Bunch grandly, as she introduced 
Miss Penelope and Dolly Dikes to their new home, 
"‘for,” she sweetly added to Da, “of course it is a 
new home, U play it is, isn’t it. Da?” 





BUNCH’S FLOWER GARDEN. 



UNCH wanted a flower garden, 
^ oh, so much ! Her one sweetest memo- 
ry was of the beautiful garden at grand- 
ma’s, “way off” in Vermont, where she 
had played when she was “ littler than 
now.” In this wonderful garden of grandma’s were 
big white and red roses, great yellow marigolds, scarlet 
poppies, feathered pinks, tiny lilies of the valley, 
waving prince’s-feathers, sweet williams, china-asters, 
bachelor’s-buttons, lady’s-slippers, candytuft, mignonette, 
“bluebenas,” and, best of all, a round bed of lady’s 
delights. How Bunch loved them all ! and how much 
she wanted a garden just like this for her very own ! 

She did not fret about it though, for she was a 
sweet little girl and tried not to trouble mamma, and 
thus make her work all the harder. But it was too 
bad that here in Nebraska there were no flowers to 
speak of, only the tall, wild, yellow and blue flowers 
that grow in the stiff prairie grass. There was not 
even any real grass such as they have in Vermont ; 
all the grass around Bunch’s home was tall and stiff 


BUNCH’S FLOWER GARDEN 


19 


and thick, and not a bit pretty. “Wild grass” they 
call it, and the velvety grass that grows in Vermont, 
and makes lawns and meadows, people out where Bunch 
lives call “ tame grass,” and sometimes they bring a 
root all the way from the East to plant and keep very 
choice as a great treasure. Bunch’s father had not 
thought to do this, so there was not even any “ tame 
grass” for the little girl’s garden. 

Bunch thought about her garden a good deal, but 
she went on having as good a time as she could without 
it. Sometime it would come, she knew. And one 
day it did, but in a very different way from that she 
had expected, as most good things do. 

The top drawer of the bureau at Bunch’s house 
was the post-office, and all the letters and papers that 
were sent to the people of Plum Creek were put there 
to be called for. Sometimes a circular or a pamphlet 
would come, addressed only “ P. M., Plum Creek, 
Nebraska,” and then Bunch, who always looked over 
the mail, knew that it was meant for her father. For 
she knew that “ P. M.” meant “ postmaster,” and she 
thought it meant nothing else. Once she was well 
laughed at by brother David for this mistake. She 
read in a book that “ the train was to start at three 
P. M.,” and she thought “ three P. M.” meant “ three 
postmasters,” and asked Da about it. He laughed 
and told her that “ P. M.” doesn’t always mean 
“postmaster.” 

Well, one day there came quite a large book ad- 


20 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


dressed to the postmaster. Bunch opened it eagerly^ 
and when she saw the covers she screamed with de- 
light : “ Oh flowers, flowers, look at the flowers ! 

and, running to her father, she said: “O may I have 
it, papa, say, may I ? ” Her father was willing, so the 
little girl clasped the book to her heart and ran off 
to be alone with her new treasure. The book was 
Vicks Floral Guide, and many folks would have thrown 
it into the waste basket. But Bunch was perfectly 
happy with it. She pored over it all the rest of the 
day, and when she went to bed her “flower book”^ 
was under her pillow. Perhaps she dreamed about it. 
At any rate, when she woke in the morning she had 
a beautiful idea. She said nothing about it, not even 
to Da, but as soon as the dishes were done, she bor- 
rowed her mothers scissors and began to cut the 
flowers out of the book, very carefully, so as not to 
spoil them. It almost broke her heart when she had 
to cut into a big rose that was on the other side of 
a tulip, but she liked the tulip best and she couldn’t 
have everything ! By and by, the flowers were nicely 
cut out and then she gathered them in her apron and 
went softly out-of-doors. 

Da had been working all the forenoon in the corn- 
field, and when he came home to dinner Bunch met 
him with dancing feet and beaming eyes. “Da, O Da! 
come! look! see my garden!” And she led him to the 
spot where her play-house stood, and there, beside it, 
neatly stuck, one by one, on the long spears of prai- 


BUNCHES FLOWER GAR BEAT. 2 1 

rie grass, were the paper flowers she had cut from 
the big “ flower book.” At first Da thought he must 
laugh, they looked so stiff and queer. But a glance 
at his little sister’s triumphant face prevented him. 
So he only said, “ Why, how nice ! Did you do it 
all yourself, Bunchie?” 



“Yes, I did it! It’s my garden I O I’ve got a 
garden at last ! ” And the little girl threw her arms 
round Da’s neck and burst into tears of joy. 

“Why, Bunchie, I didn’t know you wanted a garden 
so much,” said the kind brother, kissing away the tears. 

“ O I did, I did I I almost thought I should cry 


22 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


if I didn’t have one. And it’s come, it’s come ! Of 
course it isn’t quite so good as truly flowers, ’cause 
they smell,” she confessed, “ but then my garden will 
last always, and won’t die like a truly one, will it. Da?” 

“ No, dear, but you’ll have to take them in when 
it rains,” laughed Da. 

“ O yes ! and won’t that be fun ? Why, I can have 
a new garden every day if I want to. I can change 
them round, and — everything!” And with fresh de- 
light the dear little thing danced around her “ garden 
made out of a book.” 

But Da began to think very seriously, and the re- 
sult was that he did not spend the dollar that his fa- 
ther gave him for sorting letters in the post-office for 
a book as he had intended. And when the next 
Christmas came, there came with it a package addressed, 
“Little Blanche, care P. M., Plum Creek, Neb.”; and 
in it were seeds and seeds and seeds] And, the next 
summer. Bunch had a real flower garden, like the one 
in Vermont; for Da had remembered this, too, and 
had sent for marigolds and lady’s-slippers, candytuft 
and prince’s-feathers, poppies and pinks and china- 
asters and bachelor’s-buttons and lilies of the valley 
and mignonette and “ bluebenas ;” and “ best of all,” 
said Bunch, “ there is a darling little bed of lady’s 
delights ’most ’xactly like grandma’s.” 



HOW LOUIS FOUND A HOME. 


VERY little boy with a very dirty 
face and a very ragged j^ket, a 
tattered fur cap pulled down over 
his ears, two cold hands in his 
trousers’ pockets, and a pair of old 
shoes much too big for him! Such 
was Louis, when Mrs. Maxwell 
found him. And he was screaming at the top of his 
voice, “Extra! extra! Telegram, extra! Post, extra!” 

It was late; nearly all the men had bought their 
papers and gone to their warm homes. Louis could 
not sell one. He had kept up his call for a long 
time and now he began to grow discouraged and the 
tears started in his eyes, for he knew that the five 
cents in his pocket would not buy him a supper and 
a bed to sleep in, too. This was the first day he 
had tried being a newsboy, and somehow he hadn’t 
succeeded so well as the other boys. Before to-day 
his mother had taken care of him, but last night she 



24 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


did not come home at all and Louis knew he should 
never see her any more. He had never had a father. 
And now his mother was gone too. She used to be 
very kind to him and give him bread and sometimes 
cake. But they didn’t get much to eat. It cost a 
great deal for their one little room, and even much 
more for the dresses his mother must have to dance 
in at the theatre. She must dance every night and 
look bright and happy and pretty, while her heart 
was breaking ; and she would come home very late 
and cry herself to sleep, and wish that she might die, 
if only it weren’t for Louis. But now she was gone. 
There had been a terrible fire the night before. 
Louis had heard the alarms and had stood spellbound 
at a distance and seen the big theatre all in flames. 
He asked no questions, he did not even cry ; he 
knew that he should never see his mother again. 

It seemed a year since that time, as now he stood 
on the street-crossing, watching the other newsboys 
running about playing with one another and quarreling 
over the bits of cigar stumps or apple cores that they 
found in the gutter. He had sold only two papers, 
and it was almost dark. Just then he saw a lady 
coming, and he thought he would try once more. 
Perhaps the lady would like a paper. So he screamed 
“Telegram! Extra!” quite courageously. The lady 
was passing by without minding him when a look in 
his little motherless face attracted her, and she stopped 
and said, “You haven’t sold many, have you?” “No 


no IF LOUIS FOUND A HOME, 


25 


ma’am,” said Louis, “but perhaps I shall to-morrow. 
I only began to-day.” But here his courage failed 
and the tears came, for he was a very little boy, only 
six, and not too big to cry yet. 



The lady had three little boys of her own, and her 
Allan was just Louis’ size. She did not like to see 
little boys cry, and so she said quickly, “ Here, my 
dear, don’t feel so. Give me one of each kind of 
your papers and tell me where you live. Perhaps I 


26 


LITTLE FOLKS EAST AND WEST 


can come and see your mother sometime. Would 
you like to have me ? ” 

But instead of being cheered by this, Louis now 
began to cry in earnest, and between his sobs the 
lady heard the words: “My — mother — is — gone — I 
— shall — never see her again.” 

And then he tried not to cry, and looked up very 
bravely, and thanked the lady for the two five-cent 
pieces she gave him. But Allie Maxwell’s mamma 
could not bear to leave Louis yet. So she asked him 
to come with her into the warm room in the station 
where she was to take the train ; and there he told 
her his little story, and how he had become a news- 
boy, because old Auntie, who kept the apple stand, 
had told him to, and had given him the money to 
start with. But Auntie could not take care of him. 
She had a bad husband who would beat little boys, 
and “sometimes he beats poor old Auntie, too,” said 
Louis, with a clench of his poor little dirty fist. 

Mrs. Maxwell could not help smiling, and then she 
could not help sighing right afterward. For what 
should she do with this mite? She didn’t want to 
take him home and she couldn’t bear to leave him 
there. At last she decided to take him home for 
that night and talk it all over with Aide’s papa. So 
Louis got on board the train and went to Mrs. Max- 
well’s warm pretty home. And after such a supper 
as he had never had before — bread and butter and 
two whole doughnuts and a piece of custard pie such 


j9^0JV LOUIS FOUND A HOME. 


27 


as he had sometimes seen in the windows but never 
tasted, he was tucked into such a bed as he had 
never seen before ! When all the boys were fast 
asleep, Mrs. Maxwell told her husband all about little 
Louis and how she could not bear to leave him, but 
still she didn’t see how she could take care of another 
boy. 

“ I’ll tell you what to do,” said Mr. Maxwell ; send 
him out West to Tom and Mary.” 

“But he is so little. He could never go ’way out 
there alone.” 

“ O, yes, he can. There are always people enough 
to look after a child.” 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Maxwell, “ I know it would be a 
splendid thing for him. And Tom wants a boy so 
much. We’ll talk with him in the morning.” 

Brother Tom and his wife lived far away on the 
plains of Nebraska. They had no children, and every- 
body out there wanted to keep their own boys and 
girls themselves, no matter how poor they were. Tom 
had often written to his sister to find him a boy. 
But Mrs. Maxwell had never yet seen a boy that she 
thought good enough for her brother until she found 
Louis. Now Louis was just the one. He was bright 
and loving and sweet — after the nice bath she gave 
him. Yes, Brother Tom would like Louis. 

And Louis was very glad to go after he heard of 
the horses and cows and pigs and hens that were on 
the wonderful farm ; and how he could run about all 


28 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


day and never see a gutter nor a high brick wall, nor 
be almost run over by hacks and big express wagons 
and horse-cars. And he need not sell newspapers any 
more ! After a few days Mr. Maxwell found a gentle- 
man who was going West and who was willing to take 
Louis as far as Omaha, where brother Tom would find 
him. Louis had a nice new suit of clothes and a 
basket of luncheon, and being very little he was so 
happy at the thought of the horses and pigs that he 
almost forgot that he was sorry to leave kind Mrs. 
Maxwell. 

He was very tired of riding before he came to Omaha, 
though the cold chicken and doughnuts helped along 
a good deal, and he was in constant delight at the 
cows and sheep and the big hay-stacks and the beauti- 
ful houses and the long trains of cars that they passed 
on their way. But the last day he took a good many 
naps, and began to wish for a good run out-of-doors. 
And when the big brown Missouri river was crossed 
and the cars came to a stop and Louis was taken in 
the arms of the kind gentleman and lifted from the 
car at Omaha, he was very glad. Here brother Tom 
(“ Mr. Marsh ” the gentleman called him, and Louis 
soon learned to call him “father”) took him in his 
long, strong arms and carried him to another car, and 
again away they went. This train went more slowly 
than the other one, and after a while there were no 
houses only once in a great way, and the grass was 
very tall and there were bright yellow flowers every- 


IfOlV LOUIS FOUND A HOME. 


29 


where. They traveled all day and after a night spent 
in a funny little room almost as small as where Louis 
and his mother used to live, they started for “home.’* 

There were no more cars now, only wagons to travel 
in. And so Louis, mounted on a big box with a heap 
of straw all around his feet and legs to keep them 
warm and with Mr. Marsh at his side, rode for miles 
and miles across the lonely prairie with the wind al- 
most blowing his breath away ! How the big gray 
horses strode along! And how the prairie chickens 
flew up, up and away as they drove by I And how 
the little prairie dogs peeped forth from their holes 
and barked at them ! On they went, through the long 
grass, over the hills and down the dales, across the 
brooks and past the queer little sod houses where the 
rakes and hoes were stuck upon the roof and the 
grass grew out of the walls ; and where the barn was 
so much like the house that Louis wondered which 
one the folks lived in. So at last they reached home 
and there was a sweet lady all ready to love Louis 
and keep him good and true. Little ones forget ; and 
the pretty lady before long was “ mother” to our Louis, 
and he loved her with all his heart. 

All this happened seven years ago. Louis is now 
a big boy of thirteen, but he has been happy every 
minute since kind Mrs. Maxwell found him a home. 
And last summer, when Mrs. Maxwell and Allan went 
out West to see “brother Tom,” it was Louis who 
went to the station for them and so carefully drove 


30 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST ANE WEST 


over all the rough places. You would not have 
known him for the sad, pale little boy of seven years 
ago. His cheeks were rough and rosy, his arms 
strong and his legs able to run almost as fast and as 
far as old Towser, the big shepherd dog. 



Had you seen him as he came to meet them — 
standing erect in the big wagon, driving the gray horses 
swiftly down over the hills, his rubber cape flying be- 
hind him in the wind, his cheeks rosy, his eyes bright, 
his fair hair flying all about his face in wet curls, his 


HOPV LOUIS FOUND A HOME. 


31 


cap dripping with the rain that was pouring in torrents, 
laughing in glee at the fun of the wind and the rain 
and the drive and everything, — he was so happy ! — 
and singing at the top of his voice “ Hold the fort, 
for / am coming ! ” — you would have said. How much 
better for Louis to live out here on the big, broad 
prairie than to be a poor, ragged little newsboy in the 
streets of New York ! 














HICKERTY-PICKERTY’S PARTY. 


Hickerty-Pickerty, my black hen, 

She lays eggs for gentlemen, 

Gentlemen come every day 

To see what my black hen doth lay.” 

This is what old Grandma Grimes used to say, and 
she said it to Mother Goose and then Mother Goose 
told us all about it. Well, when the black hen was just 
one year old. Grandma Grimes, who lived away up in 
Vermont, thought she would have a birthday-party for 
her Hickerty-Pickerty. It was funny to celebrate a 
hen s birthday, wasn’t it ? But, you see, Hickerty-Pick- 
erty was such a nice hen that old Mrs. Grimes felt that 
she must do something to make her happy. 

At first she only invited the “ gentlemen who came 
every day,” but these little gentlemen, who were about 
ten or twelve years old, begged so very hard to be 
allowed to bring their little sisters with them, that 
Grandma said they might. 

The next day came the nine little gentlemen, dressed 
in their best, bringing with them nine little ladies all 


35 


36 LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 

dressed in their very best, too. In those days, when 
Hickerty-Pickerty was young, little girls did not dress 
as they do now. Instead of looped-up over-skirts,, broad 
sashes and crinkly hair, each little girl wore a blue or 
a pink calico frock, a long-sleeved apron with a narrow 



edge of tatting around it, and a big hat with a piece of 
ribbon, called a bridle, fastened to it to hold on by and 
to keep the hat from being carried off by Mr. Wind. 
Their hair was cut short and parted neatly in the mid- 
dle, and every one had on copper-toed shoes. As for 
the boys, of course they had jackets with pockets, and 


HICKERTY-FICKERTY^ S PARTY. 37 

trousers with pockets, and soldier caps and sailor caps 
and red-white-and-blue neckties. 

After Grandma Grimes had kissed them all and given 
each a nice seed-cake with a plum on top, there was 
still one little girl who all the boys said wasn’t their 
sister. This girlie’s frock was torn and her shoes were 
full of holes, and, instead of a hat with a pretty ribbon, 
she had only a green cape-bonnet. But her blue eyes 
shone and her pretty brown curls peeped out from 
under the green checked cape of her poor little bon- 
net, and as she stood looking at Grandma and trying 
with all her might to eat up her green bonnet-string, 
she was a pretty and a funny little thing to see. 

“Who you, little girl?” said Grandma. “My is 
Altie” said the cunning little thing, “My corned to a 
party.” And then she went on trying to eat up her 
green bonnet-string. “ It must be little Elsie that 
lives ’way down town ” said Grandma, “ but she is wel- 
come all the same.” 

So Grandma gave her a seed-cake too, and she went 
off to play with the rest ; but there she found, oh, dear! 
that the girls didn’t like her because she had shabby 
clothes and that the boys were all too busy eating pea- 
nuts and climbing the gate-posts to take any notice of 
her. 

So poor Elsie went away by herself, down the yard, 
through the back gate to the barn, and nobody saw her 
go and nobody missed her. 

All this time Grandma Grimes was baking a big plate- 


38 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


ful of apple-tarts and a tin pan full of ginger-snap 
horses, dogs and elephants for her company. She set 
the table under the smoke-bush and put on it the tin 
cups and saucers and plates and the cunning tin tea- 
pot that her little girl used to play with ever so many 
years ago. And there was a blue cream-pitcher, too, 
and a sugar bowl with a blue rose for a handle, and 
some tiny knives and forks, just big enough to cut 
up ginger-snaps and jelly-tarts. 

When all was ready — and nice, creamy biscuits and 
sweet molasses and water were not forgotten — old 
Grandma Grimes rang the big dinner-bell, and the 
children came trooping in. But, before they had din- 
ner, Grandma had something to tell them. So when 
she had said “hush ” several times and they were 
pretty quiet, she said: “You know, my dears, that 
you came here to-day to see my black hen and her 
wonderful egg. Now, she always comes off the nest 
just as the bell rings for dinner, she’s such a wonder- 
ful hen ! So now, I want you to form a procession 
and march around the yard to the barn and find the 
speckled egg up high in the hay-loft and bring it 
to me for my dinner, and each of you shall have a 
taste. The little gentlemen know the way.” 

“ Come on ! ” said Jamie, “ I’ll show you ! I’ve been 
there much as seventy-’leven times.” So Jamie took 
Ida by the hand and Harry took Florence and Emma 
took “ little brother ” and the others marched after 
them, all singing : “ Little fairy, light and airy,” until 


HJCKERTY-PICKERTY' S PARTY. 


39 


they came to the big old barn. Here there was a 
ladder to climb and the children went up one by one 
and stepped softly over the hay till they came to 
Hickerty-Pickerty’s nest. But what was this in the 
nest? A torn gown, a green cape-bonnet and a 
bunch of brown curls ! The poor little girl had fallen 
asleep in the black hen’s nest. 

“ O, what a negg ! ” said Alfred, “ and where’s 
Hickerty-Pickerty gone to?” 



“ She must ha’ goed when her corned up,” said baby 
Winnie. 

“ I shall just go and tell Grandma Grimes,” said Ida 
proudly. “ She won’t like it, / know. 

“ But she didn’t mean any harm,” said Eva, “ and I 
don’t believe Grandma will care a single bit.” 

And Grandma didn’t care, for when the children 
scrambled into the house and told her about it, she 
laughed merrily and came to see. There lay little 
“ Altie,” fast asleep still ; but where was the black 


40 LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AKL> WEST. 

hen ? The children hunted all over the loft and they 
talked so loud that at last they waked Altie, who looked 
very much frightened and began to chew her bonnet- 
strings very hard when she saw them all. 

“Where’s Hickerty-Pickerty ?” they all asked in a 
chorus. 

“You pulled her off, you naughty thing,” said Bon- 
nie. 

“ No, my didn’t, neiver, ” said the tiny thing, still 
eating up her bonnet-string, “her was cold, my keeped 
her warm.” 

“ I should say so,” said Grandma, laughing, and she 
lifted a corner of her frock and there found Hickerty- 
Pickerty, looking as contented as if she had had little 
girls for bed-fellows all her life. 

After that, Altie was queen of the day. Grandma 
carried her off in her loving arms and set her in a 
tip-cart, and put a wreath of roses on her curls. 
George was footman and Alfred and Harry and Ger- 
ald made a nice tandem team, while Ida and Winnie 
and Emma and all the rest were maids of honor and 
pages to the queen. 

Then they all sat down to dinner, and Gerald and 
Eva were host and hostess and passed the nice things 
round to their little guests. Last of all came barley- 
candy-sticks and gum-drops and jujube-paste that “ pulls 
out and makes more,” as Altie said. Then each had 
a tin cup of lemonade and drank to the health of 
Hickerty-Pickerty who was contentedly pecking at the 


HICKERTY-PICKERTY^S PARTY. 


41 


corn and oats grandma had given her for a treat on 
her birthday. She didn’t care for birthdays ! But the 
children did, and they had a happy time. The little 
birds sang in the cherry-tree and the fairy men peep- 
ed out of the blue-bells; and Altie sang a song 
about a butterfly in a boat made of cobwebs, and 
Alfred said a piece about a pig at a party. 

At last all of them joined hands about the little 
brown queen (who wasn’t poor any longer because 
she was happy and they loved her) and they all sang 
about the sweet rose-buds and the violets blue, who 
send their love to me and you ; the pretty birds and 
the gardens gay, where the darling babies dance and 
play. Then the party was over. They all kissed Al- 
tie and filled her pocket and her apron with cookies 
and carried her home the happiest little girlie in the 
world. 



MORE ABOUT LITTLE MISS MUFFIT. 


LL we know now about little 
Miss Muffit is what Mother 
Goose has told us. She sat on 
a “ tuffet,” whatever that may 
be, and I’m sure / don’t know, 
but she “sat on a tuffet,” so 
Mother Goose says, “eating of curds and of whey, 
when there came a black spider and sat down beside 
HER and FRIGHTENED MisS Muffit AWAY. Now I SUp- 
pose you all want to know what happened after that, 
and so here is the rest of the story. 

After little Miss Muffit ran off home, the black 
spider ate up all her curds and whey and built a nice 
web over the bowl, so that when Miss Muffit came 
back to get it, there sat Mr. Spider looking at her 
with his many bright eyes. But this time she didn’t 
feel frightened, and she wasn’t surprised when the 
spider spoke to her and said, “ Sit down, little girl, 
and I will tell you a pretty story.” So she sat down 



MORE ABOUT LITTLE MISS MUFFI2\ 


43 


on the tuffet and leaned her head in her hands 
and gazed out over the great lake and listened to 
the spider’s story. This is what he told her : — 
“Once upon a time, my dear, — long, long ago, be- 
fore Mother Goose was born, — once upon a time 
there were no little girls in the world. Everybody 
was grown up, and the world was very still and sad. 



The people used to say, ‘ Oh, if only we could have 
some little things to pet and love, how happy we 
should be.’ So they went to petting cats and dogs 
and birds, for every one must have something to love 
and care for. 

“ Now, there was a good, beautiful princess who lived 


44 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


in a glass palace, and she wanted a little pet, too, — 
but she must have something nicer than a cat or a 
dog — so she sat down and thought and thought, till 
she thought it all out, and she knew that what she 
wanted was a little pet just like herself, only small 
and cunning and sweet. But how could such a thing 
be made ? 

“She looked in all her gilded receipt-books and read 
every history and story-book that she could find. 
But no such thing was spoken of. At last she re- 
membered that somewhere she had once heard of a 
wonderful magician who could do everything. So she 
sent heralds all over the world to find him, and late 
one night he came riding up to her castle on a 
snow-white pony. He was a very little man and his 
hair was long and of a bright red color, and in his 
hand he held a long white wand tipped with a gold- 
en star. The princess took him into her parlor and 
gave him some pink tea and plum cake, and then told 
him what she wanted. 

“‘Ah!’ said the magician, ‘you want a little one 
like yourself.’ 

“‘Yes,’ said the princess, ‘something to love and 
pet, — not like a dog — something that will love me, 
too, and that will always be my darling.’ 

“The magician shut his eyes and buried his face 
in his hands to think. Seven days and nights he sat 
thus and did not speak, only muttered now and then 
some unknown words ; and he would eat nothing but a 


MORE ABOUT LITTLE MISS MUFFIT 


45 


piece of sugar every day, and drink a glass of straw- 
berry lemonade. 

“ At last he arose and calling the princess, bade her 
bring him a gold kettle and a silver ladle, and when 



she had done this, he asked for some sugar and cin- 
namon and nutmeg and lemon-juice and citron and 
raisins and molasses candy and ice-cream and mince 
pie, and when these were brought, he mixed them up 


46 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


together in the gold kettle and stirred them with the 
silver ladle and sang this song three times over it 
all: — 

‘ What are little girls made of ? 

What are little girls made of? 

Sugar and spice, 

^nd all things nice, 

That’s what little girls are made of.’ 

“Then the old magician took a rose-leaf and laid 
it on the top of this wonderful mixture, and two 
little blue violets by its side. Then he called me 
from under the door-mat, for I am 10,000 years old 
and remember all about it, and told me to weave 
my nicest web about the gold kettle. I weaved 
about and about for a whole day, and then bit off 
my thread and waited to see what would happen. 
The magician then waved his hand over the whole 
and said : — 

‘ Sugar and spice 
And all things nice 
Make us a sweet little girl again.’ 

And there, right before me, stood the dearest little 
thing, all silver and gold, with violets for eyes and 
roses for cheeks and gold-colored hair, while my brown 
web had turned to a dress of finest silk. 

“ She screamed quite naturally when she saw me, 
and ran to the princess for protection, as every little 
girl has done ever since in all the world ; though I 


MORE ABOUT LITTLE MISS MU FELT 


47 


don’t see what there is about me to frighten them. 
I’m sure I love them dearly, and have often spun 
webs in the sunshine on purpose for their pleasure. 

“ Now, when all the people saw this little dear they 
also wanted one, and the magician became very busy 
in making little girls for everybody. The princess 
and all the rest were full of joy and rewarded the 
good old man more than he had dreamed of. 

“ ‘ Now,’ said they, ‘ we have something real to love 
and it will always be little and we can always pet and 
fondle it.’ 

“ But we can never be quite happy ! By some mis- 
take, the candy-man had sent some jujube-paste with 
the molasses candy, and the magician did not discover 
it, and so the little girls could not stay little, but 
stretched up and grew tall and large like the older 
people after a while. But, on the whole, their friends 
were glad, for it is not best always to be a little 
girl.” 

The spider’s story was over, and little Miss Muffit 
jumped up and ran home, after thanking the kind, old 
spider and telling him she would not be afraid of him 
any more. 

The next morning (for all this happened in the 
night, you see), little Miss Muffit told her mamma 
all about the spider and the candy-man and the 
beautiful princess and the sweet little girl ; and as 
she jumped out of her crib, and put on her shoes 
and stockings, she said, “ Mamma, I hope there is 


48 • LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


lots of jujube-paste in me, don’t you ? for I want to 
grow up big, right away quick, so I can have a great, 
long dress like yours, mamma, and play on the pin- 
anner same as sister, and oh — lots and lots of 
things ! ” 



THE THREE LITTLE WISE MEN. 


“Three Wise Men of Gotham 
Went to Sea in a Bowl.” 

O says Mother Goose, but she never 
told us who the wise men were, or 
why they went to sea in a bowl, or 
what they did when they got there, 
and it is only a little while ago that 
we found all this out. 

The three little wise men lived in 
Gotham, which was Mother Goose’s 
name for the great city of New York, 
and their names were Bobby Shafto, 
Peter Piper and Simple Simon. They 
went to sea in a bowl because they 
had heard of a magic fish, a golden 
fish with silver scales, and they wanted to catch him 
and put him in their museum. 

Mother Goose had told them that if they could 
only catch this wonderful fish they would be the 
wisest and richest little men in the whole world. So 
Bobby Shafto and Peter Piper and Simple Simon 



50 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


agreed that they would help one another to catch the 
magic fish, and the only way to do this was to go to 
sea in a bowl. 

Well, at last the bowl was ready and the great day 
arrived. The big bay of Gotham was dotted with 



little boats filled with people waiting to see these 
three little wise men as they got on board their bowl 
and pushed off toward the open sea. The bowl was 
the largest one they could find in Gotham, and was 


THE THREE LITTLE WISE MEAT. 


51 


made of blue porcelain painted with red and yellow 
and green figures of horses and chariots and ships 
and elephants and trees and people. The three little 
wise men were all very fat and had to sit pretty close 
together to keep from tipping the bowl, so it was not 
as comfortable as it might have been. 

Bobby Shafto sat at the helm and Peter Piper 
tended the paddle, while Simple Simon opened his 
big telescope and searched into the water for the 
golden fish with silver scales. It was a part of 
their plan that nothing should be eaten till they 
arrived at their first stopping place, — a coral island 
at the entrance of Silent River, about three hundred 
miles east of Gotham — and not a word should be 
spoken till their journey’s end, for fear of frightening 
away the magic fish. 

The three little wise men had each brought a wise 
story-book and held it open on his knee, so that he 
might spend every spare moment in reading. Bobby’s 
book was called “ Afloat and Ashore,” Simon’s was 
“Two Years before the Mast,” and Peter Piper had a 
book written by himself which he thought he would 
call “ Five Pickled Peppers.” 

Simple Simon was so enchanted with the wonders 
that he saw through his telescope that he found no 
time to read. He saw many beautiful things — huge 
whales puffing and snorting, porpoises gliding at their 
side, and white jelly fish floating on the top of the 
waves. He saw that the big fish were always eating 


52 LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 

up the little fish, while they in their turn ate the flies 
and water-snakes, and all were happy. The long^ 
grass waved in and out among the rough rocks, and 
the little hard barnacles creaked as the waters rushed 
over them. The moss and waving grasses made many 
a beautiful nook among the coral beds, and Simple 
Simon was quite sure that once he saw a mermaid 
combing her green hair with a golden comb and wip- 
ing the salt tears from her eyes with the tip of her 
scaly tail. The big sharks glared at the three little 
wise men with hungry eyes, and once a swordfish 
tried to pierce the bowl with his long sharp sword. 

Meanwhile, Bobby Shafto sat at the helm and 
watched the sea-birds and the lights glimmering from 
the tall light-houses, and steered the bowl safely 
through the deep waters, and Peter Piper paddled, 
and watched the sea and the wind. 

Thus they rode on for seventeen days, and then they 
reached the mouth of Silent River and landed on a coral 
island covered with trees and birds, and had a supper 
of doughnuts and apple-turnovers and hot peanuts. 

The next morning they started again, and for 
many days silently glided over the waves. Simple 
Simon saw many beautiful fishes, large and small, but 
not one of “gold with silver scales.” Bobby Shafto 
had read his book through nine times, and twice 
backwards; and Peter Piper had written and re-written 
his poem until even he was tired of it, and still their 
journey did not end. 


THE THREE LITTLE WISE MEN, 


53 


At length, one night, Simple Simon, tired of gazing 
so long into the sea, laid down the telescope and 
went to sleep. Bobby Shafto caught it up, and had 
scarcely put it to his eyes before he saw, following 
the boat as if unable to escape from it, the magic 
fish ! Bobby need only reach forth his hand to grasp 
the fish around its body. 

But now came a wicked thought into Bobby’s mind. 
If he could gain the magic fish without his friends’ 
knowing it, then he, and he alone, would be the 
wisest and richest little man in the world, and would 
not need to share his wisdom and riches with his 
friends, Peter and Simon. 

With this wicked wish to cheat his companions, he 
leaned gently forward and caught the fish firmly in 
both hands ; but in doing this he had let go the 
helm, and as Peter was paddling rapidly, before Bobby 
could quite catch the fish, or Simon awake, or Peter 
turn his head to see, the blue bowl was driven upon 
a coral reef and smashed into a thousand pieces. 
And 

“ If the bowl had been stronger. 

My story ’d been longer.” 



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WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LITTLE FAY. 


OWN in the depths of a 
lily-cup lived a dear 
little fay. Her gar- 
ments were of silver, 
and her bright, curling 
hair shone like the 
river in the moonlight. 
She had wings on her 
little feet and wings 
on her little shoulders, 
and around her tiny 
waist she wore a bright 
scarf of crimson embroidered with silver lilies. The 
little fay was beautiful, but the little fay was sad; for 
that morning, just as the sunbeams touched the 
petals of her lily-cup and brightened with gold every 
dew-drop, a great misfortune had befallen her. The 
yellow spider, whose web had been her constant cov- 
ering and shelter from the night dew, had curled up 
as if in pain, and fallen from her lily resting-place. 



58 LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 

The little fay could not tell what had befallen her 
friend — only she felt that she was gone and that no 
more would the bright web be spread above her bed 
every night. So the little fay wept tears of sadness, 
and could not be glad at the bright sun and the 
shining morning. 

Meanwhile the harebells in the garden were ringing 
glad songs, and the sweet white violet was peeping at 
her purple sister by her side, and the big sunflower 
was welcoming the day, shaking her yellow hair and 
sprinkling all the flowers with dew. But the little fay 
saw none of this, for her eyes were dim with tears. 

At last the whole world of flowers was awake, and 
every head was raised to catch the sweetness of the 
morning air. The lark came fluttering down from his 
morning concert and sang a welcome to the blooming 
little world, and the yellow butterfly, sailing to and 
fro, kissed the lips of the rose and bade her good- 
morning. All the world was beautiful, and all the 
world was glad, except the little fay. Still she wept 
in her lily-cup and would not look above its rim at 
the blue and golden day. 

By and by the sun, mounting higher and higher, 
burned away the web above her bed and smiled a 
kind welcome to her. There lay the little fay, her 
eyes red with weeping and her silvery robe tumbled. 
Silly thing! she had not even reached forth her hand 
to catch the dew-drop all ready for her morning drink, 
but had let it dry and be lost. 


WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LITTLE FAY. 59 


The big sun laughed at her, and said : “ What is 
the matter with my little daughter this bright day ? 
Look ! all the flowers are glad and gay, and still you 
lie here in sorrow.” But the little fay hid her face 
in her crimson scarf and did not answer. 



Then the sun looked 
around for some one who 
could comfort his little 
girl, and he saw a brown 
butterfly sipping honey 
from the white rose. He 
spoke to him, and the 
butterfly flew straight to 
the lily-cup, and bending 
over its edge whispered 
to our little fay: “Come, 
wake up, dearie ! See 
how the poor lily faints 
beneath your weight ; see 
how the dew-drops are 
all wasted because you 
have not done your morn- 
ing work ; see how the 
spider’s web is burned up, 
because you were not 


awake to lay it safely away ! ” 

Then the little fay was ashamed, and she lifted her 
head and smoothed her hair from her eyes, and throw- 
ing her arms around the brown butterfly, she mounted 


6o 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


his back, flew to the brook, washed her pretty face 
and hands and ate her breakfast of honey and dew. 
All the flowers were glad to see her, for they had 
begun to miss her. She it was who, early in the 
morning, always waked them with soft pinches, brushed 
the dew from their petals with her wings, and sang to 
them that the sun was up and all the world was glad. 

Now she flew from one to the other asking forgiv- 
ness, and she whispered a pretty story in the white 
violet’s ear and kissed the red rose good morning. 
The big sunflower greeted her with a loud “ Good 
day,” and she sat and swung on his long spikes, and 
played with the flies and midges as they sailed by. 

Thus all day she played and smiled, and made 
the garden happy with her songs, and all the flow- 
ers said, “ What should we do without our little 
fay?” Do not think that she had forgotten her sor- 
row — no indeed! She had only resolved that it was 
better not to trouble others with it. But when the 
flowers had gone to sleep, and the frogs began to 
sing, she crept to her lily, and nestling there, wept 
again, and promised the lily that she would always 
love her friend the spider, but never, never let any 
one know. 

By and by the moon came up, and creeping slowly 
over the garden, looked down into the lily-cup and 
saw the little fay fast asleep. The moon smiled on 
her tear-drops and loved her the more because she 
could be sad as well as gay. 


WHAT HAFFEA^ED TO THE LIT2LE FAY. 6r 


So the night went by and when the sun again 

laughed out of the sea, the little fay awoke and 

jumped up smiling from her bed. But what did she 
see ? The dear old web again stretched above her, 

golden in the morning light, and her friend, the 

spider, looking at her with the kind old glance. She 
had imagined all her sorrow after all, for the spider 
had only gone on a journey, and had not waited to 
tell her. She sang with joy, and spreading her wings, 
flew up through the light web to the clear air. And 
the sun was up, and all the world was glad. 



LITTLE LOUBEEZE IN DREAMLAND. 


VERYONE else in the house was 
fast asleep except little Louise, 
no, I mean little '' Loubeeze'" for 
that is what our baby calls herself, 
and so we all call her “Beeze” 
for short. Little Loubeeze, you see, was keeping 
awake as hard as she could, so that she might see 
Jack Frost, when he came tapping at the window — 
as Aunt Marthy said he always did on a very cold 
night, like this. Her little pink toes were nestled 
deep down in the blanket, and her yellow curls were 
tossing about, as she twisted and turned, to keep her- 
self awake. She said “Jack and Jill,” and the “Five 
Pond Lilies,” over and over again, and at last she 
thought she would “ make carpets,” as she had often 
done before, with sister Lena. 

Lena was fast asleep now, and Beeze must make 
carpets alone. So she shut her eyes tight, and pressed 
her little fat fingers against her eyelids, not hard, so 
as to hurt, but just hard enough to keep out the 



LITTLE LOUBEEZE IN DREAML AND. 


63 


light and make the “ carpets ” come ; and, with her 
face deep down in the pillow, waited to see what 
would happen. 

First, all was dark, but pretty soon a bright circle 
of light came, and it grew larger and larger, until it 
seemed to fill the whole world. Inside this big circle 
were lots of bright-colored little circles, like round 
mats on the bright carpet. Did you ever see a kal- 
eidoscope ? Well, it was something like that, only the 
carpets were prettier, and did not last so long. Beeze 
only had time to say “Oh how pretty!” before this 
carpet was gone, and another had come, and so on. 

To-night, the carpets were prettier than ever, and 
she was so pleased with them that she had forgotten 
all about Jack Frost, when something happened that 
never happened before, in making carpets. 

The carpet was now bright green, covered with 
white dots, and suddenly, right in the middle, some- 
thing began to grow upward. It did not come from 
the outside, but suddenly popped up right through 
the middle of the carpet, and began to grow and 
grow, until, in about three seconds, it was a fine tree, 
all covered with pink and white blossoms. 

And now, on the very top of the tree, came a little 
scarlet and black thing, that tossed its head and 
opened its mouth, as if it would like to swallow the 
world. 

“ Oh, oh ! ” whispered the little girl, “ it is a birdie, 
a booful birdie ! ” So it was, and singing, too, at the 


64 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 



top of its voice, though it was so far away that Beeze 
could only see it sing. But this was only the first of 
many wonderful things. Before the birdie had ceased 
his song, there came running toward the tree, a little 

brown boy and a little 
pink girl, carrying a bright 
yellow pail between them. 
They set the pail down 
under the tree, and began 
to talk and play together, 
as Beeze knew by their 
looks and motions. But 
she could not hear a word, 


they were so 
far away, so 
very far away. 

The little boy 
wore a long 
brown b i b- 
apron, and the 
little girl, a 
pink -checked 
frock ; and pretty soon the boy took two apples and 
a doughnut from his pocket, and the girl unrolled a 
big piece of paper, and found two sticks of candy 


-Hi 


LITTLE LOUBEEZE IN DREAMLAND. 65 

and a seed cake. They sat down, she on the big 
water pail, and he on the green grass, and ate up 
every bit. 

Then they brushed off the crumbs, and hand in hand, 
the boy carrying the pail alone this time, they skipped 
away, off the carpet, out of sight. Where did they go ? 
Beeze looked, and looked, but they were gone, and 
had left nothing behind them but the brown bib-apron 
which the little boy had dropped when he wiped his 
sticky face and hands, and then had forgotten all about 
it. 

All this time the carpet was changing, much faster 
than I can tell you. The light green had become dark 
green, mixed with brown ; the pink and white blossoms 
had fallen from the tree. The bright bird, looking 
down through the green leaves, had spied the brown 
bib, and Hying down, had caught it in his bill, and 
flown with it up into the topmost branches. 

Then all at once, there were the little boy and girl 
again, this time bearing a basket of flowers. Beeze 
knew them by their sweet faces, although the pink 
frock was changed to a long pink gown, and in place 
of the brown bib, there was a dark brown coat. She 
thought they must have come back for the brown bib, 
and she spoke right out and said : 

“ Look up in the tree ! ” 

But they did not hear, they were so far away ! And 
the birdie in the tree had made a nest of the brown 
bib, and it was full of speckled eggs ! Slowly the boy 


66 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


and girl walked away together out of sight, and the 
green carpet changed to brown, and the leaves on the 
tree grew red and yellow, and began to fall. 

Then the carpet grew browner, the branches of the 
tree were bare, and the brown nest looked lonely, in 
the topmost branch. White specks fell over every- 
thing, until the carpet became a beautiful white, fluffy 
mass, out of which the tree stood, tall and dark. 

The brown nest was full of snow ; and “ Little Lou- 
beeze” felt like crying when she saw how cold and 
lonely it looked, when suddenly, a bright light shone 
over the carpet, and made it sparkle like a carpet of 
diamonds, and a great many people came running and 
dancing over it, toward the old tree. Beeze saw 
among them a pink hood and a pair of brown mittens, 
and then she knew her own boy and girl, though 
they were muffled in furs and shawls, and their hair 
was the color of the white carpet. Then she saw the 
rest of the people gather round these two, and hug 
and kiss them, and form a ring and dance around 
them, until they were tired from very fun and laugh- 
ter. The carpet of snow seemed to laugh too, as it 
sparkled in the light. 

Suddenly there was a noise overhead, and the brown 
nest fell to the ground, at the feet of the pink lady, 
and the brown man picked it up, and looked at it, and 
then laughed, and then the lady laughed, and Beeze 
seemed to hear him say, as he held it up, to show 
them all : 


LITTLE LOUBEEZE IN DREAMLAND. 


67 


“ Here is that brown bib-apron, I lost so long ago. 
Don’t you remember, mother? when we were chil- 
dren ? ” And they all gathered around, and Beeze 
wished she could hear what they said. But she couldn’t, 
they were so far away. So she watched them, until 
they went away, and the light went away too, and 
she was left alone, with the white carpet, and the 
tree. Not even the nest was there now. 

She grew tired of watching, the carpet did not change 
any more, and at last she raised her head, and rubbed 
her eyes. It was morning! She had not seen Jack 
Frost after all, for he had come while she was dream- 
ing, and had painted his carpets on the window panes. 
She wanted to cry, but she remembered the beautiful 
things she had seen, and so she laughed instead, and 
running into mamma’s room, she cried: 

“O, mamma, I did see fairyland! But, mamma, 
it was so far away ! ” 




HOW THE MOON GOT HER HALO. 


HE short winter day is over. The 
sun, so unwilling to give any 
warmth all through the day, has 
gone to bed behind the row of 
white hills. Just for a minute he 
leaves a red glow on the clouds, 
as a sort of good-by, and then the 
gray twilight shuts down. 

It is very cold. The frost fairies 
begin to trace their pictures on 
the window-panes, and the men and women are hurry- 
ing homeward, shutting close the doors and putting 
more wood on the fires. The babies are cuddled up 
warm in their mammas’ arms, or tucked snugly down 
under the blankets. Even the kitties are glad to stay 



HOJF THE MOON GOT HER HALO, 69 

in and warm their toes by the fire. Nobody wants to 
be out-of-doors to-night. 

Nobody, did I say? Yes, there is somebody, — the 
moon! As the sun goes down, she peeps above the 

horizon, just as round as he is, and almost as warm. 

Certainly she is a great deal more rosy and jolly than 
he has been to-day. She is happy to be out-of-doors 
to-night, for it is one of the longest nights of the 
year. Up out of the blue water she comes, slowly 
sailing up the eastern sky, — queen of the night and 
of the stars. 

And how lovely the world is that she sees beneath 
her, — the rolling ships and gleaming lighthouses, the 
long, quiet beaches, the frosty hills and the frozen 
rivers, and, best of all, the great city. Here the 

moon sees many strange sights, and it is a long time 

before she discovers why it is that all the houses 
where the rich folks live are so wonderfully lighted 
up. Then she remembers that it is Christmas-eve. 
The rich Boston people are having Christmas parties 
and Christmas trees for their children. The churches, 
too, are lighted ; and the people are going back and 
forth, running fast to keep warm, laden with baskets 
and bundles and lanterns and rocking-horses and dolls 
and baby-carriages and trumpets and drums and books 
and whips and cornucopias of candy and bright-colored 
glass globes and festoons of evergreen, all to hang 
upon the trees for the children. 

This makes the moon happy, for she knows what 


70 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST, 


Christmas means, and she is glad when the people 
remember it. She smiles brightly, but suddenly grows 
very sober, for she sees something that ought not to 
happen on Christmas-eve. 

A little girl, very small and very thinly dressed, her 
bare feet and hands blue with the dreadful cold, is 
kneeling on the top of the marble steps of one of the 
houses and trying to look through the curtains at the 
warmth and happiness within. 

She cannot see very much, but what she can see is 
so beautiful that she almost forgets her cold and 
hunger. Suddenly the door opens, and a man comes 
out. He is dressed like the men who sit on the 
tops of fine carriages, and he carries a whip in his 
hand. The child jumps up in fear; and then the man, 
who had not seen her till then, seizes her by the arm, 
and threatening to strike her if she doesn’t “ clear 
out,” thrusts her off the steps into the street. Oh, 
how dreadful, how dreadful it is ! The moon hides 
her face behind a cloud, and the whole world grows 
dark. 

A minute later the moon looks out again. Where 
is the poor little child now? The door of the great 
house is still open, and a long line of light streams 
out over the snow. The door-way is crowded with 
people, and down at the bottom of the steps kneels 
a beautiful little girl. She is talking to the poor child 
and trying to make her stop crying ; for the rough 
man had hurt her, and her cry of pain had been 


AO IV THE MOON GOT HER HALO. 


71 



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72 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


heard by the company in the parlor. A finely dressed 
lady hurries down the steps, saying, “ Madie, Madie, 
come back ! ” and then she beckons to the coachman 
to come and “ take that ragged child away.” 

But Madie clings fast to the little girl’s hand ; and 
as the lady, with a stern look, bends over her, she 



says, “Why, mamma, she is crying! and see how she 
shivers. Please let me take her into the parlor.” 
And then, as her mother still frowns, she says, 
“ Mamma, you wouldn’t like to be out here in the 
cold.” 

The mother is silent ; and Madie, still holding fast 
the poor little girl’s hand, leads her through the 
crowd of people into the beautiful room, where it is 
light and warm, and where there is something so good 
to eat! And it is all for her, — the poor, little, 
ragged child ! She can hardly believe it. Oh, how 
beautiful, how beautiful it is ! The moon looks through 
c.e curtains and sees the two happy little girls and 


no IV THE MOON GOT HER HALO. 


73 


the people around them, led by the love of the child 
to see what Christmas-eve really means. 

“ Yes, it means something more than presents and 
Christmas-trees and a good time,” says the smiling 
moon. She says it so loud that the stars hear her 
and nod back to her. “ Yes, indeed,” they sing, “ Yes 
indeed, help one another, help one another.” And 
the little white cloud, sailing by on the wind, catches 
the moon’s happy smile, turns it into rainbows, and 
makes a halo round her kind old face. 
























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A LITTLE MAID OF LONG AGO. 


WAY off in the beautiful country 
of Greece, a long, long time 
ago, there lived a little maiden, 
the daughter of a king. Her 
name was Gorgo, — not a very 
pretty name, perhaps, to us who are used to calling 
little girls “Ida,” and “Ethel” and “Marjorie,” but a 
strong name, and therefore just the name for this little 
maid, — as you shall see. 

In those old times there used to be many wars, 
and the country of Sparta, the part of Greece where 
Gorgo lived, was famous for its brave soldiers, who 
never thought for a moment of themselves when their 
country was in danger, but would always stand ready 
to fight for their dear native land. 

Sometimes these were not good wars, but wars for 
revenge, instead of for freedom and for loyalty to 
beautiful Greece. Some wicked man would be angry at 
an injury he had received, and in order to revenge 
this injury he would go about among the different 
kingdoms and persuade the rulers to join with him 



LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


and try to overcome his enemy ; and then there would 
be a terrible war in order to satisfy one wicked man’s 
wicked wish. 

Aristagoras was such a man as this. He did not 
like the king and wished to become king himself in- 



stead. So one day he came to Sparta, and tried to 
persuade King Cleomenes, the father of little Gorgo, 
to help drive the rightful king away and put himself 
on the throne. 

He talked with the king a long time. He promised 


A LITTLE MAID OF LONG AGO. 


79 


him power and honor and money if he would do as 
he wished ; more and more money, and, as the king 
refused, still more and more money he offered, and at 
last King Cleomenes almost consented. 

But it happened that when Aristagoras came into 
the presence of the king, the king’s little daughter 
was standing by his side with her hand in his. Aris- 
tagoras wanted Cleomenes to send her away, for he 
knew very well that it is much harder to persuade a 
man to do something wrong when there is a dear 
little child near by. But the king said, “ No, say 
what you have to say in her presence, too,” and so 
little Gorgo stood by her father’s side, looking up into 
his face with her innocent eyes and listening intently 
to all that was said. 

She felt that something was wrong, and when she 
heard the strange man offer her father money and 
honors, and saw her father look troubled, and cast 
down his eyes, she^knew that Aristagoras was trying 
to make her father do something he did not quite 
want to do. So she stole her little hand softly into 
his, and said: — 

“Papa, come away, come, or this strange man will 
make you do wrong.” 

This made the king feel strong again, and clasping 
the little maid’s hand tightly in his own, he rose and 
left the bad man who had tempted him to do wrong, 
and went away with the child who had saved him 
and the country from dishonor. 


8o 


LITTLE FOLK^, EAST AND WEST 


Gorgo was only ten years old then, but she was 
worthy to be a king’s daughter because, being good 
and true herself, she helped her father to be good and 
true also. 

When she grew to be a woman Gorgo became the 
wife of a king, and then she showed herself as noble 
a queen as she had been a princess. Her husband 
was that King Leonidas who, you remember, stood in 
the narrow pass of Thermopylae with his small army 
and fought back the great hosts of the Persians until 
he and all his brave band were killed. 

But before this happened, there was a time when 
the Grecians did not know that the great Persian army 
was coming to try to destroy them, and a friend of 
theirs who was a prisoner in the country where the 
great Xerxes lived, wishing to warn the Spartans of 
the coming of the Persians, so they might prepare, 
sent a messenger to King Leonidas. But when the 
messenger arrived all he had to show for his message 
was a bare, white, waxen tablet. The king and all 
the lords puzzled over this strange tablet a long time, 
but could make nothing out of it. At last they began 
to think it was done in jest and did not mean any- 
thing. 

But just then the young queen Gorgo said: “Let 
me take it,” and after looking •it all over she said; 
“There must be some writing underneath the wax!” 

They scraped away the wax from the tablet, and 
there, sure enough, written on the wood beneath, was 


A LITTLE MAID OF LONG AGO. 


8l 


the message of the Grecian prisoner and his warning 
to King Leonidas that the great Persian army was 
coming. 

Thus Gorgo helped her country a second time, for 
if the Spartans had not known that the army was 
coming they could not have warned the other king- 
doms and perhaps the Persians would not have been 
conquered. But, as it was, Leonidas and the other 
kings called their armies together and when the Per- 
sian army appeared the Greeks were ready to meet 
them and to fight and die for their beautiful Greece. 

So this one little maid who lived hundreds of years 
ago, a princess and a queen, helped to save her 
father from disgrace and her country from ruin. And 
we may feel sure that she was strong and true always, 
even when her brave husband, Leonidas, lay dead in 
the fearful pass of Thermopylae, and she was left to 
mourn alone in the royal palace at Sparta. 


A LITTLE MAID OF TO-DAY. 



\ know who thinks she is 
I of no use in the world. 
/ She is always wishing 
' that she might do some 


HERE is a little girl I 


great thing ; and when 


she hears that one of her schoolmates has done some- 
thing very nice, she always wishes that she had done 
it, and mourns that she can “ never be or do any- 
thing like other girls.” She never thinks of what she 
is doing every day. So we always call her “ Little 
Do-Nothing.” 

“ Why cannot I paint a wild rose like Jennie, or 
play a piece on the piano like Maud ?” she said to 
me one day; and when I replied, “ Because you have 
not tried, Lena,” she said, “ But I couldn’t if I did 
try. Everybody but me can do things. Vm of no 
use. Auntie.” 

She looked up at me so sorrowfully that I wanted 
to comfort her. So I took her upon my lap (though 
she is almost too big for that now) and said to 
her : — 




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A LITTLE MAID OF TO-DAY, 83 

‘‘ Now, Lena, try to think if there is not something 
you do that is worth while. Tell me just what you 
do every day.” After a minute the little girl 
began : — 

“ Why, I wipe the dishes, and make my bed, and 
set the table, and — I guess that’s all.” 

“ Well, even that is something,” I said ; “ but don’t 
you help take care of grandma, and get her supper 
for her when Mamma is away ?” 

“Oh, yes!” said Lena; “but that isn’t anything. 
Of course I do that.” 

“ And don’t you go to school, dearie ?” 

“ Why, yes, I go to school ; but everybody does 
that.” 

“ And don’t you get a good lesson almost every 
day ?” 

“Teacher says so,” modestly replied “Little Do-Noth- 
ing.” 

“ But I suppose all this amounts to nothing, doesn’t 
it ? You want to do something grand ! that is it, 
isn’t it, dear?” 

“I never thought those things were anything,” she 
said ; “ of course I do those, because I want to help 
Mamma and learn something at school.” 

“And I suppose you think ‘everybody’ does that 
too, don’t you, Lena?” 

Lena saw that I was laughing at her, but could 
not see the reason why; and I did not wish to tell 
her that not all little girls want to help their mam- 


84 LIJ'TLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 

mas and learn their lessons. So I only kissed her 
and rocked her in my arms like a baby, — this sweet 
little girl who thought she was no use in the 
world. 

After that, I used to watch when she was not look- 
ing, just to see the little things she would do that 
she thought of “ no account.” And I will tell you 
about one day, which was very much like all other 
days. After doing all the little things she could to 
help, and playing with baby Francis till he forgot 
what it was to cry, Lena started to do an errand at 
the grocery store. I happened to be going out too, 
and so I went with her. She always told me all her 
little troubles, and this day she said, just as we left 
the gate : — 

“Auntie, Ethel has made her dolly a whole new 
suit. I wish I could sew as nicely as Ethel does.” 

I did not say anything, for just then we heard a 
great laughing and shouting, and a poor, ugly, little 
yellow dog ran toward us, followed by a crowd of big 
boys. I caught Lena’s hand and tried to draw her 
out of the way, but she left me, and running toward 
the dog, she knelt down, threw her apron over him, 
and kept him there till the boys had gone by. I was 
afraid that the dog might bite her, and said: “ How 
did you dare to go up to him so, Lena? I would 
not.” 

“Oh, that’s nothing!” said she; “I wasn’t going 
to let him get hurt, of course ! ” 


A LITTLE MATD OF TS-DA Y. 


85 


Presently we came to a store window where there 
were ribbons and laces, and Lena stopped and looked 
in. 

“Anything you want, dear?” I asked, smoothing 
her pink cheek. 

“ I was wondering,” she replied, “ if Rosie’s papa 
would tell her how sick Mamie Gray is, so she could 
go and see her. Would you tell him. Auntie?” 

Of course I went with the dear little girl whiL she 
sent the message. 

A little way farther we saw on the ground a little 
brown bird trying to learn to fly. He had fluttered 
along from the tree into the middle of the sidewalk, 
where people could hardly help treading on him. In- 
deed, I did not see him at all ; but Lena did, and 
quickly picked him up and set him inside the fence, 
almost before I knew what she was doing. Just then 
some of her schoolmates came riding by, and when 
they saw her they invited her to take a ride with 
them to the beach. My little girl wanted to go, for 
she loves the sea ; but after a moment’s hesitation she 
said : — 

“ I want to go ever so much, but I promised Mam- 
ma to come straight home and take care of Francy.” 

If I had not been with her the dear little thing 
would have lost her ride, but I told her to go, while 
I went home and told her mother and took her place 
by Francy’s cradle. And on my way home I thought 
a great deal about Lena, and made up my mind that 


86 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 


she should not go on any longer thinking she did 
nothing of value, when, in one day, she had done 
more real things than Ethel and Jennie and Maud 
all put together. 

So when we were all seated at the supper table, — 
Lena and I side by side, — I said I wanted to tell a 
story. And I told this very story I have been telling 
you, — how a little girl who thought she did nothing 
of any use in the world, had spent one day, — tell- 
ing just what Lena had done that day, only I called 
the little girl “Mollie” instead of “ Lena.” As I went 
on, Lena’s eyes grew bigger and bigger, and finally 
she said : — 

“Why, Auntie, Ao you mean me?'^ 

“Yes, you darling,” said I, hugging her close to my 
side and giving her a kiss ; “ yes, I mean you. That 
is what you are doing every day and thinking it is 
of ‘ no account,’ while it is of the best account in 
the world. And remember, dearie,” I said, turning her 
face toward me so that I could look right down into 
her eyes, “ remember that the little things you do 
every day are of some account ; and if you keep right 
on doing them, the great things will come by and by.” 





HE always was a perfect little owl/' says 
mamma, and indeed I think mamma was 
right, for there she would sit, straight 
upright in bed, just as still as a mouse, 
looking out of the window, long before the sun was 
up, and while all the rest of the folks were sound 
asleep. Yes, she is a little owl, though not a “truly" 
owl of course, with puffed up feathers and little pointed 
ears and round yellow eyes. Her eyes are round 
enough, to be sure, as round and big as saucers (doll- 
saucers I mean), but they are deep, dark brown just 
like mamma’s and her ears are little and pink and she 
hasn’t any feathers except her little white nightie with 
the blue feather-stitching round the edge — unless you 
count her hair, which is soft and fluffy and the color 
of sun-light. They just call her an owl, that ’s all, 
because she is awake when folks ought to be asleep, 
as grandma says. But then you know grandma is 
old-fashioned and doesn’t know that now-a-days the 


88 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


time to be awake is just when the birds wake up, 
long, long before the sun gets out of bed. Her little 
crib is right beside the window and there she sits 
every morning with her soft, chubby hands folded 
together as you do at kindergarten, looking to see 
what she can see. 

And what does Marjorie see in the morning? Well, 
first and best, there is the black and white kitty. 



It isn’t her own kitty, — she has a white rabbit, in- 
stead, in a coop behind the wood-shed — but it is 
Ethel’s kitty who lives in the brown house opposite. 
Ethel has a dog, too, and a canary bird and lots of 
buzzing bees that sometimes fly over into Marjo- 
rie’s garden for their breakfast. O, how round and 
fuzzy they are and what a pretty, soft humming they 
make when they dip down into the morning glory 
flowers and come up laden with sweets for their 


WHAT MARJORIE SEES IN THE MORNING. 89 


honey ! Ethel’s dog comes over very early too, and 
Marjorie hears his sharp bark and sees him run up 
the street after the milk-wagons. His name is “Cap” 
which means “Captain” and he ought to be very 
brave, but I’m afraid he isn’t, for when there is a big 
noise or an express wagon, or a man with a whip he 
runs away and hides. The black and white kitty isn’t 
a bit afraid of him. She has a cubby-hole in papa’s 
asparagus bed, just where Marjorie can’t help seeing 
her every morning. The black 
and white kitty wakes up early, 
just like Marjorie. Up she jumps 
out of her basket, washes her face 
and hands (and as she has four 
hands it takes her a long while, 
twice as long as it does you, for 
four is twice two), and comes for 
a walk over to Marjorie’s. Then 
she snuggles down in her cubby- 
hole and sits looking up at the window blinking her 
yellow eyes at Marjorie and purring very loud, and 
then off she goes again after a grasshopper for break- 
fast. 

Then there are the two big dogs that live in the 
corner house where the cow lives that smells so sweet 
and breathes so hard and rolls up her eyes at you 
when you pass by so that you might be frightened if 
you did not know that it is only her way of getting 
acquainted. One of the dogs is feeble and shaggy 



90 LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST. 

and very, very old. But the other one, whose name 
is Caesar, is young and strong, so he takes care of his 
old friend in their walks together. They walk slowly ' 
up and down in front of Marjorie’s window and make 
no noise at all. They never bark unless there is 
something to bark at. They often reprove Cap for 
his silliness, but, dear me, he hasn’t sense enough to 
see how much better behaved they are, and so he 
goes on being silly, just like some folks that are not 

dogs. The old, old dog 
is almost blind, and un- 
less Caesar is with him he 
is apt to get lost. He 
did once, and Caesar found, 
him and brought him 
home. It is funny to see 
them march along to- 
gether and then sit down 
side by side and look solemnly up the street, Caesar 
very politely waiting till his old friend Max is rested, 
though he isn’t tired a bit. Then they will go on 
again, and, having had their walk, turn and come 
home to breakfast. 

Then there are the milk-cart men with their cans 
rattling and their horses bobbing along, one after the 
other. First comes the red milk-man. His horse is 
red and his cart is red and his face and hair are all 
red, too. He comes very early, so early that, in the 
winter, he has to bring a lantern, and the light bobs 



WHAT MARJORIE SEES IN THE MORNING. 9 1 

up and down on the wall in Marjorie’s room like the 
“birdie on the wall” in the looking-glass song at 
kindergarten. He stops at Ethel’s house and leaves 
two big cans of milk for Ethel’s breakfast. One sum- 
mer when the family was away, the red milk-man 
used to fill a dipper with milk every morning for the 
black and white kitty and leave it behind the barn. 
He filled it brimful, and then jumped back into his 
‘wagon and said “hudup” and away went the red 
horse — to the next kitty’s house, I suppose — and the 
black and white kitty lapped up the milk for her 
breakfast. Sometimes she did not get it, though, for 
Daisy Pease and Kitty Baxter and Tiger Lily and 
little Midget Mankins were there before her and 
drank it all up. But she didn’t care very much. 
There were plenty of grasshoppers and flies, and 
sometimes a nice bone that Cap had left, so she got 
along very well. 

Next after the red milk-man, comes the white milk- 
man and he stops at Marjorie’s house, just far enough 
along so that the tip of his white horse’s white nose 
peeps in at the window. He is a white man like his 
horse, but he isn’t quite so honest, for the white 
horse is so honest that his very name is “ Sir Hon- 
esty,” while the white man used to pick grapes off the 
vine beside Marjorie’s window when he thought no 
one was looking. If he heard any sound he would 
run, which showed he knew he was doing wrong, for 
he knew very well that Marjorie’s papa’s grapes were 


92 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


not his grapes. And Marjorie knows it too, for 
mamma told her so once when she wanted to take a 
red candy-ball off the counter in the store where they 
sell ice-cream. The candy-ball wasn’t Marjorie’s candy- 
ball, said mamma, and so she must not touch it. 

Then comes the brown milk-man’s horse and of 
course he must be a brown milk-man, for the red 
horse’s milk-man is red and the white horse’s milk- 
man is white. At any rate, if he isn’t brown “ he 
ought to be,” as the nice man who wrote the “Water 
Babies” says. He goes right past Marjorie’s window 
and is all shut up in his cart just like a turtle in his 
shell. And when he drives by, he says, “ gid-ap, gid- 
ap, gid-ap ” right along, as a clock ticks, without stop- 
ping. The brown milk-man leaves milk at Daisy’s 
house, where once they caught a wood-chuck, and 
when the brown milk- man saw the wood-chuck he 
said “gid-ap” just as he does to his brown horse. 
The brown milk-man has a brown baby, too! The 
black and white kitty saw the baby one morning while 
she was washing her face after breakfast, so she knows 
all about it, for just then the brown milk-man drove 
by, and the little, clean, brown baby looked out of the 
wagon and clapped his little, clean, brown hands at the 
black and white kitty, so she couldn’t help seeing him. 
The brown baby has had his breakfast ; you can tell 
that by his looks ! All these things Marjorie sees in 
the morning while she is waiting for mamma to wake 


WHAT MARJORIE SEES IN THE MORNING. 93 


and papa to kindle the fire and sister Lizzie to open 
the windows and let in the sunlight. 

But dear me, this isn’t all that she sees. It would 
take a whole book to tell you all, for she keeps her 
eyes wide open and there are lots of things to see 
every morning. There is the great, tall ice-man with 
his great yellow and black cart and two big, slow 
horses, all thundering down the street and making 
noise enough to wake the sleepiest of all sleepy heads. 
He says “good morning” to papa, who gets up to let 
him in, and he is very polite and gentlemanly even 
though he does drive an ice-cart and wear old clothes. 
He is straight and tall and walks along with his big 
piece of clear ice as if it were a little bundle, — he 
is so strong ! Once mamma gave him some apples 
to eat and Marjorie saw him hold one in each hand 
in front of the big horses to see if they would come 
and get them. At first they didn’t know what it 
meant, they didn’t get apples every day for breakfast, 
but at last up they started and each got an apple and 
a nice pat on the neck from the ice-man, who was 
very much pleased. 

Then there is the canary-bird over on Ethel’s pi- 
azza. Marjorie can just see him, a little yellow dot in 
the midst of the green branches, hopping about in 
his cage and singing for joy in the sunlight. He 
loves to stay in his cage because he doesn’t know 
any better and he thinks he wouldn’t like to get out, 
because if he did, the black and white kitty might eat 


94 


LITTLE FOLKS, EAST AND WEST 


him up ; for kitties, you see, think that birdies are 
made to kill and eat — they don’t know any better — 
so the yellow birdie is quite content, and looks down 
on the little grey sparrows and does not envy them 
at all. But the sparrows wonder how he can be happy 
in a cage. They know how much nicer it is to be 
free than it is to be safe. They would rather fly 
away from kitty than have a wire cage all around 
them to keep her away, while they could not fly at 
all. So they are quite happy too, and they fly past 
Marjorie’s window and settle down in the garden and 
peck away for worms and berries and crumbs, saying 
“chip, chip, chip” for company, while the big robin 
red-breasts come and find them and get their break- 
fast too. And what big worms they do find ! Bigger 
than they are, almost, but down they go, down Mr. 
Robin’s fat throat, and off he hops fatter than ever ! 

Then there is the darling little humming-bird that 
comes every morning and gets his breakfast from the 
trumpet-vine that grows round the window. Dip, he 
goes, down into the trumpet blow, almost the whole- 
of his little body hidden in its ‘crimson tube, and then 
out again, and then dip, dip, again and again, till he 
has gathered all the sweetness, dip, dip, dip, all round 
the window. 

There are tne doves, too, that go sliding on the 
roofs for exercise. That is great fun. And they can’t 
get hurt, for if they slip, why there are their wings ! 

And the wasps in the honeycomb nest up in the 


WHAT MARJORIE SEES IN THE MORNING. 95 

cedar tree, flying in and out, out and in, building a 
home for winter. They are not so sociable as the 
bees though. They hum all the time they are working, 
the music helps it along, you know. 

The grasshoppers, too, and the black cricket with 
her family, and the dusty old toad hopping out to 
find some water to drink, and the tree-toad that 
Marjorie thought was a piece of mud, he was so ex- 
actly the color of mud and all rolled up in a ball, and 
the black ants who keep so still when there is any 
danger near, and the long, purple darning-needle and 
the grey spider in the corner under the roof with his 
web all wet with dew and the sunshine shining through 
— oh, I can’t begin to tell you the things that Mar- 
jorie sees in the morning! 

And then comes mamma, and puts on Marjorie’s 
little pink dress and combs her hair and washes her 
face and hands and ties up her little shoes, and then 
she is ready — ready for what? she knows. “Now 
I’m ready for my breakfast, too,” she says, “just like 
kitty and Cap and the two great, big horses and the 
birdies and the bumble-bees and the brown baby and 
€v’y-body else.” 




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) EE AND * n OLLAR * + 

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